


i want to do what lovers do (with you)

by ladydragona



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Aziraphale Can Sense Love (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Blow Jobs, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is Bad at Feelings (Good Omens), Crowley is a Mess (Good Omens), Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, First Kiss, First Time, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, M/M, Missing Scene, Non-Penetrative Sex, Scene: Rome 41 AD (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:27:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25932880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragona/pseuds/ladydragona
Summary: It started with an invitation to oysters. Crowley hadn’t ever tried them, he didn’t mind food but it wasn’t his vice of choice usually, and Caligula’s terribleness, no input from Hell necessary, had put him in a bad mood to begin with, but Aziraphale had smiled at him and made that temptation joke and Crowley had been unable to do anything but go along with it.Or; Aziraphale invites Crowley to dinner, but the angel seems to have ulterior motives.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 146





	i want to do what lovers do (with you)

**Author's Note:**

> So this was originally suppose to just be a short pwp to just give me practice writing smut that uuuhhh obviously got out of hand....
> 
> Title is from the song; m'Lover by Kishi Bashi
> 
> This is my very first smut, please be nice!

It started with an invitation to oysters. Crowley hadn’t ever tried them, he didn’t mind food but it wasn’t his vice of choice usually, and Caligula’s terribleness, no input from Hell necessary, had put him in a bad mood to begin with, but Aziraphale had _smiled_ at him and made that temptation joke and Crowley had been unable to do anything but go along with it.

The fact that his heart and stomach had given a flutter at Aziraphale approaching _him_ for a change not withstanding.

So he abandoned the jug of wine he’d already payed for and motioned for Aziraphale to lead on. The angel tutted at his minor act of wastefulness, but also gave a full body wiggle that made Crowley glad he had colored glass he could hide his eyes behind because he wasn’t going to be able to quit staring.

Hopefully this Petronius fellow kept his restaurant stocked with plenty of wine, Crowley knew he was going to need it if things continued on this path.

As it turned out Petronius’ new restaurant _did_ have plenty of wine, which Crowley wasted no time in acquiring at the same time Aziraphale ordered a plate of oysters.

“Are you certain you don’t want a plate for yourself, my dear?”

The ‘my dear’ caught him off guard and he choked on his wine. “Ah- uh- no, no ‘m fine. I’m good. Just steal one of yours, won’t I?” He tried to cover his surprise.

My dear. _My dear_. It was a pet name if he ever heard one. And sure, Aziraphale used ‘dear boy/girl/lady/man/whoever’ often enough, directed at various people including Crowley himself on occasion, but he’d never added ‘my’ to the front of it. It was possessive. It was affectionate. It was sweet.

It made something warm and gooey unfurl in Crowley’s chest even as Aziraphale stared at him horrified, mouth agape.

“I think not! I ordered them for me!” Aziraphale cried, affronted.

Crowley grinned at him and made a snap decision that might have been moderately influenced by the alcohol he already drank. If Aziraphale could use pet names… “Come on now, _Angel._ ” Crowley said. “You’re the one who invited me out and you won’t even share?”

The horrified look disappeared almost instantly and Aziraphale tried to hide an indulgent smile behind his cup. “Well… maybe just the one. Since you’ve never had them.” The crinkling around Aziraphale’s eyes was proof enough that he was pleased as anything. Whether from the banter, the pet name Crowley had been wanting to dredge up the courage to use since Eden, or from being a little in his cups himself, Crowley couldn’t say. But it didn’t matter because even when he lowered his own cup Aziraphale was still smiling all rosy cheeked and bright eyed.

Looks like that _did things_ to demons hearts. Or, at least, one demons heart. He had to stamp down on that fluttery butterfly feeling in his chest and stomach before it got the better of him and turned him into an incoherent mess.

He didn’t _want_ to crush this fluttery gooey sparkly thing inside him though. This was the first time Aziraphale actually seemed pleased to see him, the first time the angel wasn’t all anxious and worried and uncomfortable. He didn’t want to get his hopes up that it _meant_ anything, but it was nice to finally feel like Aziraphale wasn’t just begrudgingly putting up with him.

Apparently Aziraphale was on a mission to outright kill a poor besotted demon though, because he bloody well _blushed_ and took the hand Crowley had just laying on the table into his own.

Crowley yelped and would have jumped straight into the stratosphere if his knee hadn’t hit the table, sending his cup flying and causing close to half of their fellow patrons to shoot the two of them dirty looks.

It was only the quick snap of Aziraphale’s fingers that forced everyone's attention away from them and righted his spilled drink. “Are you alright there, dear boy?” Aziraphale asked, leaning over the table at him, looking all earnest and bright-eyed.

The noise Crowley made in response would one day in the distant future be likened to that of a teapot boiling over. He struggled to get his words and tongue under control, but it was a practice in futility because his left knee was smarting from where it had collided with the stone table and _Aziraphale was still holding his hand_.

Crowley was only saved from his sputtering embarrassment by a server dropping off Aziraphale’s plate of oysters.

The infamous oysters, in Crowley’s lofty opinion, looked very underwhelming. Eight greyish-brown bivalve mollusks arranged in a circle with lemon wedges in the center and a tiny little knife on the side. How, exactly, one was suppose to _eat_ them was a mystery to Crowley. His first instinct was to swallow them whole, but he’d been around long enough to know that following such an instinct was not generally how things were done. And it freaked out the humans.

Aziraphale took his hand back and wiggled happily in his seat, eyeing the plate before him with a rare intensity.

Crowley immediately felt the loss of those warm fingers and glared from behind his dark spectacles at the offending shellfish. It might have been slightly overwhelming, but he hadn’t wanted Aziraphale to _pull his hand away_. Crowley also realized, in that moment, that he would have to share Aziraphale’s attention with the food. Which wasn’t _ideal_ but it was what he signed up for and he wasn’t about to complain when they spent so little time together already. Crowley cleared his throat and nodded his chin towards the oysters Aziraphale's fingers were hovering over. “So, how do you go about eating those things anyway?”

“Oh it’s quite simple really!” Aziraphale plucked an oyster seemingly at random from the plate. Then, with knife in hand, slipped the blade between the two halves of the shell and twisted. The oyster opened with a small cracking sound.“You know, the humans are so ingenious! I never would have thought these little rock-looking fellows hide something delicious.” He separated the two halves to reveal the pale brownish-pink insides.

“They’re not… rocks, you know. They’re animals, like, fish. Shellfish or whatever.” Crowley said, eyeing the slimy looking substance sitting in the bottom of the shell. It looked even less appetizing now than it had before Aziraphale cracked it open.

Aziraphale rolled his eyes and passed the opened oyster to Crowley, who took it without thinking because he had never thought twice about Aziraphale handing him anything and wasn’t about to start now.

Crowley brought the shell, full of what looked to him like pale greyish-brown snot, up to his nose and sniffed. First with his human nose then with a flick of his snake tongue. Both told him the same thing; briny and a little fishy. He wrinkled his nose.

He could already tell this would not be a pleasant experience and would have wondered why he was even putting up with being force-fed snotfish if he wasn’t painfully aware of how arse-over-elbows he was for the angel sitting across from him. Said angel, of course, was working on opening up another one.

Aziraphale glanced up at him once he’d cracked open his own oyster. The apprehension must have clear on his face because Aziraphale gave a soft smile. “You don’t have to try it if you really don’t want to, you know.” For most people that probably would have made them feel better.

It did not make Crowley feel better. “No. ‘M gonna do it. Just… lookin’ at it a bit first.” He grumbled, steeling himself for the unpleasantness he was about to subject himself to.

“Well, you know I’ve heard if you-oh...” Aziraphale trailed off in whatever he was about to say as Crowley slurped the oyster out of the shell.

Crowley regretted it immediately. The first thing he registered was that it was wet, cold, and salty. Very salty, with a tiny hint of fishy. The texture, when he chewed, was smooth and reminded him of silken tofu, which he hadn’t liked when he tried it in China a while back and still wasn’t a fan now a hundred years later.

“Bleh!” He opened his mouth, long serpent tongue lolling out, and allowed the remainder of the half chewed oyster meat to fall out of his mouth and onto the table below. He could hear Aziraphale sputtering and gasping from across the table but right now all Crowley could think of was getting that taste and texture out of his mouth as soon as possible.

It took draining and miraculously refilling his wine three times in quick succession before Crowley could no longer detect the lingering taste and texture. He set the cup down with a thump and finally hazard a look at his dining companion.

Aziraphale was gaping at him. Mouth and eyes opened wide in shock and looking all together scandalized. Possibly a little upset. The rest of the oysters still sitting where they were left, seemingly abandoned and forgot about.

Shit.

Crowley chanced a glance down at the partially chewed oyster meat in front of him and realized he might have fucked up.

He clenched his fists in his lap and felt his face heating up in shame and embarrassment. Of course, it was just bloody like him to go and ruin a good thing just by being himself. He asked too many questions and was too curious and too tetchy and prickly. Always too much and never enough. And now he couldn’t even pretend to like a human food to make one single angel happy. He wouldn’t be surprised if Aziraphale sent him away for ruining his meal. He should just go before the angel recovered, at least that way he could maintain some control over the situation and-

“Are you alright, dear boy?”

Crowley’s head shot up, brought abruptly out of his own spiraling thoughts. “I- erm- uh- wha?”

“I just… You aren’t allergic, by chance, are you? Oh, I should have asked before insisting on this place!” Aziraphale said while twisting his pinky ring around and round his little finger. Looking decidedly _concerned_.

A slow blink was about all Crowley could manage. “What?” He repeated.

“The oysters! Some people are allergic to shellfish and I really should have asked you about that. It was an oversight on my part, I apologize.”

“I’m a demon.”

Aziraphale huffed. “Yes, I’m well aware of that fact.”

“Then why would you think I’m allergic to _anything_?”

There was a moment of silence where Aziraphale parsed through exactly what Crowley was getting at. “But, your reaction...”

“Was because I didn’t like it, Aziraphale!” Crowley snapped.

An awkward silence descended upon them.

After a long moment, it was Aziraphale that broke it. “Well that is a relief. You didn’t have to be so dramatic about it though! I thought something was actually wrong.”

Aziraphale surprising him was apparently going to be a running theme this century. “So you’re… not upset about it?” Crowley asked.

“Of course not!” Aziraphale said and shook his head. “Not everyone can like everything, even I have a few delicacies I find distasteful. I just thought something was actually wrong! You really shouldn’t worry me like that, dear.” He waved his hand and miracled away the remains of Crowley’s oyster. Leaving the table clean and spotless as if it never even happened.

Crowley honestly didn’t know what he was supposed to _do_ with that. In fact, this entire encounter had left him adrift. It wasn’t like any other time they’d ran into each other before. Aziraphale wasn’t fidgety or nervous. He hadn’t made a single snide comment about what Crowley might be getting up to. Hell, he was nigh-on affectionate! Possibly even flirty if Crowley was reading it right.

He floundered there for a moment, not sure what Aziraphale expected him to say and still thrown for a loop that he wasn’t being sent away or that Aziraphale wasn’t hurrying to leave. “Oh.” He said eventually. “Right. I’ll uh… keep that in mind?”

That seemed to be just the right thing because Aziraphale was back to smiling at him like the sun as if he hadn’t just done something exceedingly embarrassing and gross in public. “Right!” Aziraphale pressed his palms together. “Did you want to try again?”

Crowley wrinkled his nose and shook his head, making Aziraphale chuckle.

“That’s alright, my dear.” He said, tilting his head back and sucking the oyster meat straight out of the shell.

The bob of his throat and pleased ‘mm’ as he chewed and swallowed was mesmerizing, in a way, for Crowley, who couldn’t find it in himself to tear his eyes away. Aziraphale gave a full body wiggle as the tip of a pink tongue chased the brine left on his lips leaving them shiny and wet.

Crowley shifted slightly in his seat and thanked his own ingenuity for coming up with the colored spectacles himself. Not only to hide his serpentine eyes from curious humans, but also so he could watch enraptured as Aziraphale ate three more oysters, savoring each one decadently. Quiet noises of pleasure falling from his lips with each taste.

If he’d have known Aziraphale ate _like this_ he would have joined him for meals centuries ago.

Aziraphale paused then, glancing over the three remaining oysters. “I do feel ever so bad you don’t like them.” He says guiltily. “We could go somewhere else, more to your tastes...”

And that was just something Crowley wasn’t going to allow to happen. “Don’t be stupid, angel.” Crowley scoffed. “I’m here aren’t I? Would I still be sitting here if I didn’t want to be?” He almost winced at how close to an admission that was.

Luckily Aziraphale either didn’t notice, or chose not to comment. “Well I would assume not-”

“There you have it then. Perfectly fine right where we are, yeah?”

Aziraphale didn’t seem convinced at first and Crowley prepared to argue further, he already felt like he messed up enough today and doesn’t need to add ‘making them leave to find another restaurant’ to the list, when the angel sighed. “Well, alright. If you’re sure.”

Crowley nodded sharply and took a drink to hide a pleased smile. “Course I am.”

Aziraphale paused, studying him carefully. “Dear, I don’t want to seem like I am pushing the subject, not at all, but I was just wondering… What, exactly, did you not like about the oysters? Was it the taste? Because if so I hear a little bit of lemon makes them more agreeable for those with sensitive palettes.”

Well, that was unexpected. Crowley had to take a moment and really think about it. “Well-er, I mean-the taste wasn’t anything to write home about, exactly. But uh, was the feel of it. Don’t like the way it chewed, I guess?” Crowley hoped Aziraphale droped it after this and just goes back eating. He didn’t think Aziraphale meant anything by it, but having his eating habits examined is more than a little uncomfortable and saying these things out loud just highlights how ridiculous it sounds.

But Aziraphale didn’t continue driving Crowley around the bend via sensually eating shellfish. Instead, he glanced over the plate, taking in the remaining three oysters and seemed to be thinking very hard about something.

Crowley is just about to ask what in the world Aziraphale is waiting for when the angel stood abruptly. He felt his heart sink at the sight.

Had he said the wrong thing? Had Aziraphale _wanted_ to go somewhere else? He seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the food if the little noises and wiggles were anything to go by, and that’s why he had insisted on staying, but perhaps he got it wrong? Maybe the angel actually _was_ offended that he didn’t like the oysters.

The downward spiral of thoughts Crowley often finds himself in is thrown into confusion when Aziraphale scooped up his plate and rounded the table in Crowley’s direction.

He doesn’t even get a chance to wonder what Aziraphale is up to before the angel is sliding onto the bench next to him. Their shoulders and knees knocking in an intimacy that almost sends Crowley into a panic.

“Angel wha-”

“It’s just... you see, and I really don’t mean to push, but if it’s the chewing that bothers you, perhaps you could do without? Eat them without chewing them?” Aziraphale’s voice was steady, but the twisting of his hands in his lap betrayed how nervous he really was.

“… I know ‘m a snake an’ all, but humans aren’t usually very fond of that sort of thing, angel.” And it wasn’t as if swallowing it whole hadn’t been the first thing that occurred to him.

Aziraphale huffed and gave a little wiggle, his hip bumping into Crowley’s. It took a monumental amount of willpower from Crowley to not jump right off the shared bench. “I know you are a snake, dear, but that was not what I was implying. You see, there is a bit of a debate among food connoisseurs over how, exactly, one should eat oysters. Some say you should chew them to get the most out of the flavors. Others insist on allowing the meat to slide down your throat directly from the shell.” Aziraphale emphasized his point by tipping his head back and running his fingers down his throat.

Crowley couldn’t help but zero-in on the motion, tracking the movement of Aziraphale’s fingers from just under his chin till they stopped just shy of dipping into his robes.

The angel was going to bloody kill him at this rate.

“Ngh. Y-yeah. Sure. I could, you know, try it like that, I s’ppose.” Crowley choked out and had to tear his eyes away to chug another cup full of wine to wet his suddenly very dry mouth. Thank Someone for supernatural alcohol tolerance.

He didn’t really think he would like them much more even if he utilized his snake nature to swallow the thing whole, but he’d do anything if it made Aziraphale happy.

Crowley eyed the three remaining oysters with disdain and was in the middle of trying to figure out how to do this without embarrassing himself even further when Aziraphale placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Would you mind terribly if I assisted you, dear?” Aziraphale asked and gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

Every muscle in Crowley’s body froze at the contact. “Assist-” Was all he was able to choke out.

“Yes.” Said Aziraphale, and he grabbed an oyster of the plate between them. “I know the technique well. You just-” He trailed off as his hand glided across Crowley’s shoulder to the back of his neck. “Bend your head back a bit.”

At this point in the proceedings Crowley’s brain promptly shut down, unable to handle the touching and the soft words whispered practically right into his ear. Bloody hell he could feel Aziraphale’s warm breath ghosting along his neck, he was so close.

Crowley tipped his head back as Aziraphale had instructed and his mouth opened on reflex when the edge of the shell touched his lip. So overloaded with everything that was going on, Crowley barely even registered Aziraphale tipping the shell and the meat and brine flowing into his open mouth. Brain offline, snake instincts took right over and swallowed the whole mess with no input or initiative from Crowley at all.

“There that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Aziraphale’s voice washed over him like a warm rain.

Crowley blinked hazily, intimately aware of every single warm point of contact between him and the angel. Aziraphale’s thigh pressed against his, the plump hand that was now trailing from the back of his head down his spine, a soft angelic cheek pressed to the bony part of his shoulder, hot breath on his neck.

“Aziraphale.” He croaked once his mental facilities had returned enough to do so. “I-it was, erm, fine. Not as bad, I s’ppose.”

Aziraphale ‘hmmed’ in acknowledgment but he didn’t pull away, even after setting the now empty shell back onto the plate with the rest.

The prolonged contact was great, wonderful, fan-fucking-tastic even. But it was sending Crowley into a fit. “Er, Aziraphale…?”

Another ‘hm’ as a response and Crowley could have _sworn_ the angel tried to scoot even _closer_.

“N-not that I er, don’t appreciate the uh… this... but uh, are you drunk?”

The snort that followed sent a warm gust of air tickling across Crowley's throat, leaving gooseflesh in its wake. “I haven’t had nearly enough alcohol to be inebriated, dear.” Aziraphale waved his hand vaguely in the direction of Crowley’s mostly empty cup. “You, on the other hand, have had quite a lot I noticed.”

Crowley gritted his teeth and tried to ‘act natural’. Whatever Aziraphale was up to, he couldn’t let it show how affected he was. “’S not very strong. Sweet but it’ll take more than that to put me down.”

“Yes, the wine at this establishment does taste quite nice. Pairs well with the oysters.” The waving hand finally settled down, but ended up on Crowley's upper thigh.

It was too much. Way too much.

Crowley twitched and looked sharply down at Aziraphale. “Angel, what the bloody fuck has gotten into you?” He was met with bright blue eyes staring steadily right back at him, faces so close their noses brushed.

“Something I should have had the courage to do long ago.” Aziraphale whispered.

A flicker of Aziraphale's eyes down to his mouth was the only warning Crowley got before the angel tilted his head and closed the distance between them.

The first few micro-seconds of the kiss was spent with Crowley desperately scrambling to figure out what to _do_. But then Aziraphale’s hand came up to caress his cheek and his eyes slammed shut of their own accord and he melted.

The kiss was soft and gentle and sweet. Every thing a demon like him should have reveled in destroying. Crowley didn’t want to destroy though. Every atom of his corporation and every synapse in his brain cried out in joy at the touch of Aziraphale’s lips. A benediction he didn’t deserve. He wanted to hold this precious thing he’d been given in the palms of his hands and never let it go.

It was over far to soon, in his opinion.

Aziraphale pulled back just far enough to separate their mouths, but it felt like a stab in the chest. Aziraphale’s thumb on his chin was the only thing keeping him from chasing after him.

Brain reeling and mind numb, Crowley almost missed Aziraphale whispering to him.

“We should leave.”

“W-wot?” Crowley croaked, trying frantically to reboot what was left of his poor scrambled brain.

“Come on.” Aziraphale swiftly stood, grabbed Crowley by the upper arm, and all but dragged him out onto the street.

Too dazed to argue, Crowley barely managed to miracle enough coinage to the table to pay for their meal and drink.

Once out in the cool evening air, Aziraphale tucked his hand into the crook of Crowley’s elbow and led them in a zigzagging path through the streets and dwindling crowds of Rome. He seemed to have a specific destination in mind and hadn’t said a word since, giving Crowley the time he needed to reboot and actually realize what had just happened.

Aziraphale kissed him.

Aziraphale _kissed him_.

_Aziraphale. Kissed. Him._

The second all the pieces fell together and formed a coherent thought Crowley dug his heels in and forced them to a stop. “Aziraphale what the fuck?”

Aziraphale blinked up at him. “Crowley, what’s wrong?”

“Wrong? What’s-” Crowley motioned erratically between their lips with an index finger. “You-you-”

Aziraphale furrowed his brow and at least looked _concerned_. “Kissed you. Yes. Was… Was that not what you wanted?”

“Not what-I, hnng, you. _Aziraphale_.”He couldn’t fucking handle this. Crowley dragged Aziraphale into the nearest alley, grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him against the wall.

“Really, dear, was that necessary?” Aziraphale huffed, face going pink in the dim light.

Crowley crowded him into the stonework and growled, “What. The. Bloody. _Fuck_. Isss going on!?”

Aziraphale’s face took on a more rosy hue, but he didn’t seem intimidated in the slightest. “I’m not quite sure what you-”

“You. Kissed. Me. _Why_? Was this entire,” Crowley waved his hand in the general direction of the restaurant they’d just left,”Some ploy? Get my guard down then...” He trailed off for a moment, unable to think of a proper ending for the sentence that wouldn’t turn him into a stuttering mess. “Did a demon put you up to this? Heaven!? Need to get me out of the way!? You know if you need me to leave the area you can just-”

Aziraphale reached up and smoothed his fingers over Crowley’s cheeks. “No, no. It’s nothing like that, dear, I swear it.”

He wanted to sink into the gentle touch, close his eyes and loose himself in the feel of Aziraphale touching him.

Because, because they didn’t do this. Touching. It was a long standing, if unspoken, rule of Aziraphale's: Crowley was not to touch him and Aziraphale never reached out to touch Crowley. Had been the rule for four thousand years now. Of course Aziraphale had never _said_ as much, but Crowley could read body language. He wasn’t a complete idiot.

The first time it happened he’d been disappointed, but not surprised. They’d been laughing about something, he couldn’t remember what, some time before Noah built his big boat. They’d been laughing and drinking around a villages festival fire when Crowley placed his hand on Aziraphale's shoulder.

The reaction had being instantaneous. One second the angel had been red-faced and chortling along to what ever ridiculousness Crowley had been spouting and the next he was pale and serious and standing up and saying he needed to go.

Crowley wondered if it would have hurt more if he’d been less drunk.

As it happened it wasn’t a one time thing. Every time Crowley touched him drunk, sober, accidental, purposeful, it didn’t matter why. Every time it happened Aziraphale would clam up and find a reason to leave as soon as possible. And Aziraphale _never_ initiated, keeping a careful bubble of no-contact between them.

They did not touch. That was The Rule. So why Aziraphale was all of a sudden breaking it made no sense to Crowley.

“Aziraphale I.. I don’t understand. We don’t-you don’t-”

Aziraphale smoothed his thumbs over Crowley’s cheekbones in a soothing rhythm. “I know, dear, I know. I promise to explain just-” He glanced around nervously, eyes flicking up then down in a way that Crowley recognized. “Not here. I have a place I’m staying. Here, in Rome. Come with me there and I’ll… I’ll tell you.”

Crowley nodded quickly, not trusting his tied up tongue to not embarrass him further. Aziraphale shown his sunshiny smile at him again and slipped his fingers from Crowley’s face.

For a second Crowley's traitorous heart clenched in agony at the loss, but was sent soaring once again when Aziraphale grasped his hand and pulled him, much more gently this time, through the streets.

It was only a few more twists and turns before Aziraphale lead Crowley to a five story insula. The store fronts all along the ground floor were closed up for the night and Aziraphale let go of his fingers so they could traverse the narrow stairs up. Crowley missed his touch the second it was gone.

After four flights of stairs they finally reached the top floor and Aziraphale stopped outside a wood door, wavingCrowley through. Inside was exactly as anyone would expect. A rectangular single room with a basic kitchen at one end, a little table with two chairs, and a small bed at the opposite end. The only bit of personality or uniqueness to the place was a stone shelf built into the wall full of scrolls and ink and parchment.

“Huh. Not what I expected.” Crowley said and turned to look at Aziraphale, his hands twisting together nervously. “Much smaller than the villa I recall you had in Nineveh some six hundred years ago.”

Aziraphale flushed, as if embarrassed to be reminded of how wealthy he usually lived. “Yes well, I received a pamphlet about new… expectations of us Earthly Agents. Something about showing humility and connecting better with the less privileged masses. This is just a temporary lodging… at least until the new guidelines are released in a few decades or so.”

Crowley snorted and rolled his eyes dramatically. “Heaven changes it’s mind faster’n rabbits multiply.” He grumbled, surprised when Aziraphale made an agreeable noise instead of attempting to argue.

Aziraphale never let him get away with bad-mouthing heaven before. Something really must have happened.

“Listen, angel.” He started, wetting his suddenly dry lips and flexing his hands at his side to get out the pent up energy. “If someone has told you to… get me out of the way or seduce me or whatever-”

“No one told me to seduce you!” Aziraphale cut him off quickly then flushed even redder at what he just said. “It’s just… Well, the thing is I- Promise you won’t be upset?”

Crowley scowled and watched Aziraphale’s eyes flick around the room, purposefully looking everywhere but at him. “Is there something I have to be upset about?”

Aziraphale winced slightly. “I get the feeling you will be quite cross with me.”

“So you decided to be flirty and snog me in the middle of a restaurant instead of telling me what was going on? Great idea. Real smart of you.”

“That’s not-! See! I knew you’d be upset, and I haven’t even-”

Crowley threw his hands up in the air. “I’m upset because you’re acting weird and I don’t know why!”

“Weird!? How am I ‘acting weird’!?” Aziraphale gasped, affronted.

“How are you not!? You’re all touchy-feely and-and kissing me and affectionate! You don’t-we don’t...” He trailed off, running out of steam, unable to force himself to complete that sentence. Too open, too telling.

Aziraphale understood anyway. He knows what Crowley can’t bring himself to voice out loud and his face fell. “Oh, oh my dear. This has gotten quite out of hand.”

And that hurt. Like a punch to the gut and a hand squeezing around his heart. Of course things were just ‘out of hand’. Maybe he really had been a bit drunk, forgot who and what he was sharing a meal with. It was fine. This could just be another thing they didn’t talk about.

“Aziraphale…”

“I fear I may have ‘put the horse in front of the cart’ as it were.”

Crowley had this sudden itchy twitchy feeling under his skin. Like he needed to move, leave, run away. Because Aziraphale was staring at him intense and determined and Crowley had only seen that look on him a few times in four thousand years but knew that whatever Aziraphale decided, he was going to do it.

“Dear...” Aziraphale took a single step forward and Crowley mirrored him with a step back.

“Aziraphale what-”

“Crowley, please tell me you can feel it.” Aziraphale said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Feel what, exactly?” Crowley croaked. The feel of Aziraphale’s full attention, of an angels full attention, sent the demon at his core wanting to skitter and hide. He could feel his wings in the immaterial place he sent them ruffling in defense while at the same time something white hot and molten and _pleasant_ settled in all his limbs.

Aziraphale took another, cautious, step towards him and Crowley mirrored him again. His back already hitting the wall of the small room and his eyes darting to the only two exits on instinct: the door Aziraphale was blocking by pure happenstance and the tiny window just above the bed. The window was too small for a full-grown average man-sized being to fit through but Crowley was certain he could transform, at least partially, into a snake before he got there, though even as the thought flitted through his mind he knew he wouldn’t do it. Because he’d never ran from Aziraphale before and he’d be damned (again) if he started now.

The feel of warm fingers skimming gently across his cheek brought Crowley from his thoughts and back to the present. Somehow, without him even noticing, Aziraphale had moved closer, right up into his space. He fights against, but ultimately fails, the desire to press into Aziraphale’s touch like a flower to the sun.

“You really can’t feel it then.” And it almost broke Crowley’s heart to see and hear Aziraphale so forlorn. “I suppose I should have attempted communication instead of acting on assumptions. I’m so very sorry for my foolishness.”

Crowley clenched his eyes shut and dug his fingers into the stone behind him to keep from reaching up and grasping onto Aziraphale’s arm like a leech. “Angel, you’re gonna have to give me more to work with here.” He gritted out.

Aziraphale’s thumb caressed his cheek and he seemed conflicted for a blink-and-you-miss-it moment but Crowley didn’t blink often and he didn’t miss it. He’d been about to open his mouth and tell Aziraphale he didn’t have to tell him, it’s fine, no really, when Aziraphale spoke. “Love, Crowley. I can fell it- sense it- especially from you.”

And it felt like he’d been plunged into ice cold water. Crowley flinched back, turning his face away. It can’t be real, Aziraphale couldn’t have just said what he thought he said. Crowley distantly realized he’s trembling, shaking like a damnedable leaf in the wind. He gritted his teeth and clenched his hands into fists so tight its a wonder his nails didn’t pierce his skin.

“That’s ridiculous.” He hissed. “You’re ridiculous.”

Aziraphale hadn’t moved to touch him again, but from the corner of his eye Crowley could see him shake his head slowly. “It’s true, my dear. You’re love burns so warm and-”

Crowley snarled and hissed and shrunk even farther back into the wall. “I’m a _demon_! Demons don’t-”

“None of that now. We both know that’s not true.” Aziraphale said, chastising gently and with a small patient smile.

And of _course_ Crowley knew it wasn’t true! He’d come to terms with these inconvenient feelings ages ago. _But Aziraphale was never suppose to know._ It was just suppose to be his stupid problem. Some mixed up wiring in his brain, making him want a holy angel instead of hating or fearing him like the other, _proper_ , demons.

“What does _love,_ ” he spat the word out like it was an insult, “have to do with anything!?”

“Oh,” Aziraphale breathed, “everything.”

Crowley scoffed. “Course you do, bloody angel, thinking everything is _love_. You’re damned well made of the stuff.”

Aziraphale tutted and shook his head again. “Please just listen to what I’m trying to tell you. I can sense your love, Crowley, and I had hoped, thought, that you could sense mine as well. I realize now I should not have made that assumption.”

And Crowley could feel himself trembling. Feel himself shaking apart at the very seams. Aziraphale couldn’t possible mean what Crowley thinks he means, what Crowley wants him to mean. “Well, you know what they say about assumptions...”

Aziraphale was unimpressed with his attempted deflection. “I know this might be difficult to hear-”

“Understatement of the century.”

“Please don’t interrupt. I know this is difficult to hear, but I love you. And _not_ ,” Aziraphale pointed his finger threateningly at Crowley when he opened his mouth to comment, “in the ‘love all things’ way. I love you in the individual way. The human way. And I _know_ you feel the same. I’ve known for some time now.”

“How-guh-how long?” Crowley croaked, barely able to comprehend what Aziraphale was saying. It wasn’t possible, was it, for Aziraphale to return his feelings. But if he could sense-

Crowley had the sudden snakey primal desire to find a dark hole and hide in it. Because if Aziraphale _was_ telling the truth, and he could sense it, then-then- “How long have you known?”

Even with purposefully not looking at him Crowley could still see, from the corner of his eye, Aziraphale smile a small, sad, smile. “Oh my dear, from the Beginning. I told you about giving my sword away the most lovely wave of love flowed right out of you.”

Crowley firmly told his eyeballs they were not going to cry, _they weren’t_. “Oh Satan.” The trembling ramped up a notch.

“And… that is why I said you might be upset… Because I’ve known all this time and yet-”

“And yet you kept me at arms length.” Crowley hadn’t meant for it sound like an accusation but everything was going pear-shaped, and he hated pears.

“Yes… I admit your… affections were a surprise. Not a bad one, but I didn’t know how to respond, if I should even acknowledge them at all. And I didn’t, necessary, want to discourage you. I just didn’t-”

“Feel the same.”

“Yes. Not till… fairly recently anyway.”

Crowley nodded slowly, a tiny spark of hope flickering in his chest. If Aziraphale had known all this time, and it seemed he had, and he’d still spent time with him, wasn’t disgusted, was _receptive_ even. Then maybe… but- “What changed?” Crowley couldn’t keep that spark of hope from coloring his voice. He was being given a chance for the first time in four thousand years and he wasn’t about to piss it away.

Aziraphale flushed and grasped his robes, worrying them in his hands. And Crowley thought he looked so damned cute like that. “To-to be honest I’m not sure… I just, we met up in Jericho and we spent the whole day in the market and you disappeared and when I found you again you had this tiny little grey kitten and you were fussing over it. And-and when we parted I… I didn’t want you to _go_.” Aziraphale sniffed and Crowley realized his eyes were shining and _oh_ he couldn’t let that happen.

“You-you.” Crowley surged forward, stopping just short of actually touching him, his fingers skittering in the air just shy of Aziraphale’s clothed shoulders and breath mingling in the scant space between them. “I want-can I-” Even with the confession Crowley couldn’t allow himself the indulgence of touch without permission.

“Yes, darling, please.” Aziraphale whispered, voice wet, and releasing his robe to curled his fingers around Crowley’s sharp jaw.

And Crowley fell, hands pressing reverently into broad shoulders as Aziraphale gently guided their lips together. Finally given permission to touch, to feel, Crowley drinks from his lips like a parched man finally given water. Loosing himself in the wet slide of lips as his fingers glided into soft white curls. Feeling just as feather soft as it’d looked in Eden.

Crowley was the one to break it this time, but only going so far as to be able to whisper, “Angel,” against Aziraphale’s slightly parted mouth. “You love me.” Crowley whispered reverently, lips brushing with every word and fingers clenching and unclenching in angelic curls.

“Most ardently.” Aziraphale whispered back and angled his mouth to catch Crowley’s upper lip, Aziraphale’s hands hot on his hips. And if he thought the first two kisses had been good, they were nothing compared to feeling and tasting Aziraphale lick into his mouth and the moan that followed his first taste. The same moan he’d let slip when eating oysters.

That did something to Crowley, sent white hot heat sliding through his limbs and down his spine to settle low in his gut. He found he didn’t mind the lingering taste of oysters when accompanied with sweet wine and something that was uniquely _Aziraphale_.

Stumbling in the general direction of Aziraphale’s tiny bed occurred to the both of them around the same time. It would have been significantly less perilous if they’d separated first, but Crowley finally had his angel, willing and loving, in his arms and he wasn’t about to let go any time soon. Not for something as mundane as _walking_.

Luckily they were only two steps away from the bed when Crowley stepped on the edge of his robes, falling into Aziraphale even more than he already was and sending them both crashing down, still locked at the lips.

They broke apart to laugh. Aziraphale’s arms around his waist and pillowed on his soft body, it was the perfect place to land for Crowley.

“Alright there, angel?” He asked once the giggles had mostly subsided.

Aziraphale ‘mmmed’ and sat them up, maneuvering Crowley so he sat in his lap, longs legs bracketing thick thighs. “Never better, darling.”

His blue eyes sparkled in the scant light and Crowley ducked down to kiss the dazzling smile right off his face. Not only because Aziraphale looked so perfect with his hair mused and cheeks glowing pink, but also just because it was a thing he could _do_ now.

Even if things never progressed any farther than this, Crowley knew he would be content.

Crowley grunted in surprise when Aziraphale pulled their hips flush, feeling a hardness that wasn’t his pressing against his thigh.

“Angel?”

“I-I’m sorry, love.” Aziraphale panted against his throat. “Is-is this alright?”

Crowley nodded quickly, scratching gently at Aziraphale’s scalp. “Ngk. Yeah. Yeah. Just, ah, you sure?”

Aziraphale pressed a sucking kiss against the pulse in his neck instead of answering.

“Oh fuck!” Crowley yelped, his hips bucking, seeking out friction for his hardend cock of their own accord.

“Yes that is the general idea.”

Crowley groaned, but kept a steady hold on Aziraphale's head against his throat. “Nooooo. Nonono. _Angel_ _why_. Ruining the mood!”

Aziraphale chuckled in between kissing every inch of Crowley’s neck and jaw he could reach. “It seems to me,” His hands gripped Crowley tighter, guiding Crowley’s hips to grind against him in a way that had them both moaning. “The mood is just fine.”

Crowley growled out a hiss and pulled Aziraphale’s face up into a searing kiss, fulling intending to push the angel back onto the bed and _show him_ ‘just fine’.

But apparently the angel had other ideas.

Crowley’s world spun as he was lifted in the air and fell flat on his back, head hitting a pillow and Principality lording above him.

 _Oh_.

Laying on Aziraphale had been lovely. Sitting in Aziraphale’s lap had been fantastic. Laying beneath him with every sharp corner and long line covered in soft angel was better than heaven. And he would know, he’d been there, done that, got the t-shirt. Heaven had nothing on this.

Crowley barely had time to gasp before Aziraphale descended upon him like a man possessed, kissing the breath right out of his unnecessary lungs.

When Aziraphale finally pulled back to stare down at him Crowley got a lovely view. Lips shiny, kiss swollen, and red. Cheeks pink and full. And the moon shining just right through the window to cast Aziraphale’s curls in a halo of silver moonlight.

“Oh my dear. How beautiful you look.” Aziraphale whispered, reaching with one had to cup Crowley’s face.

Crowley leaned into the gentle touch, turning his head just enough to press a kiss to Aziraphale’s plump palm. “Should see yourself then.” He mumbled, not wanting to think about himself. Not when he was laying in Aziraphale's bed, rapidly approaching… something. They hadn’t discussed particulars, but Crowley doubted there was anything Aziraphale wanted to do that he didn’t

He watched Aziraphale lick his bottom lip and felt his fingertips just below the glasses still, miraculously, on his face. “Darling would you mind terribly if-”

Knowing exactly what Aziraphale was about to ask, it wasn’t difficult to figure out, Crowley reached up, quick as a whip and tore his glasses off. Sending them flying across the room, a clatter that sounded suspiciously like breaking glass followed soon after.

They were broken, shattered, and it didn’t matter because Aziraphale was kissing him again while still holding his face and his other hand was pulling at Crowley’s robes and it really didn’t fucking matter.

Crowley clutched at the angel above him. Pressed his hands and fingers into every bit of soft give he could reach. The throbbing of his cock between his legs was a distant thought as Aziraphale kissed his way down Crowley's face and neck

“Dearest.” Aziraphale murmured against that place where his neck became his shoulder. “This robe needs to come off. Preferably now. I absolutely _must_ see you. All of you.”

Sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth, Crowley nodded. “Yeah. You too. Robe. Gone.”

He regretted the second those words left his lips because Aziraphale pulled away and sat up on his knees. The pressure that caused on his hips was delicious, and he didn’t know how he’d _lived_ before without it, but Crowley still scrambled, grasping at handfuls of Aziraphale’s white robes and trying to pull him back.

“ _Angel_.” Crowley whined.

Aziraphale threw his head back and laughed bright and happy. “I thought you wanted me undressed!”

“I doooo.” Crowley whined again, still trying to pull him down and failing miserably.

Aziraphale batted his hands away. “Now you stop that, silly serpent! The sooner you let me get this robe of, and take yours off too, the sooner you can have me back.”

Crowley hissed in disagreement, but moved to comply anyway. Pulling the offending linen over his head, having to wriggle a little to get it out from under his arse, and tossing it into the dark room headless of where it landed.

And of bloody course Aziraphale was taking his time unwrapping himself. Only having unclipped one end of the robe by the time Crowley was bare and ready, cock exposed and curving up his belly and slightly to the left.

It probably didn’t help that the angel was busy eyeing him from chest to groin, flush even deeper on his cheeks that it had been from the heavy kissing.

Crowley arched an eyebrow and tried to arrange himself in a way that he hoped looked inviting. “See something you like, angel?”

Aziraphale blew out a harsh breath and reached with tentative fingers to scratched through the sparse red hair on Crowley’s exposed chest. “Oh my, yes.”

Patience already walking a thin line as it was, that was the last he could take.

Crowley shot up, grabbed Aziraphale around the back of the neck, and pulled him into a bruising kiss. Swiping his forked tongue into angelic mouth and tasting his palette. “Get this infernal robe off before I rip it off.” He growled, pawing at it.

“Don’t you _dare_.” Aziraphale huffed against his mouth, hands exploring the newly bared planes of Crowley’s body; chest, sides, back, every touch sent waves of heat and need across his skin and curling in his gut.

“Fine. But you’re taking too long.” Crowley grumbled, trailing his lips down Aziraphale’s neck and his hands following soon after. Caressing Aziraphale’s still covered chest and belly. He was so _soft and warm_ and Crowley allowed himself the small indulgence of giving Aziraphale’s arse a good squeeze before following his robe to its end.

Aziraphale actually _squeaked_ , but also swatted him playfully on the arm. “Naughty thing.”

The affection in his voice was palpable and Crowley grinned as his fingers finally slipped under the hem of his robe. “Demon, remember?”

Finally getting his hands on bare skin was a revelation. He’d wanted to get his hands on Aziraphale for four thousand years… ok maybe not quite that long, there was a while before the longing had actually turned physical but _still_.

His thighs were thick soft. Able to grab large swaths of him and squeeze, feeling the muscle under the layer of fat. “Fuck, angel. The thighs on you...” Crowley groaned. “Want to bite them.”

“That’s, ah, definitely on the table...” Aziraphale’s fingers slid into his hair, shorter than it had ever been before, the blunt scratching of Aziraphale’s nails on his scalp sent shivers sliding down Crowley’s spine.

Crowley gave one final squeeze of the full arse he’d enjoyed watching walk away from him for four millennia, smirking to himself because _of course_ Aziraphale wore a bloody loincloth under his robes, before giving in to the need for _more_ skin-on-skin contact and wrenching Aziraphale’s robes up and over his head.

It’s not like he hadn’t seen naked human bodies before; Adam and Eve had been created nude and probably would have stayed that way had they not eaten a single damning fruit, and the Romans were notoriously free and willing to get naked for almost any reason. So yes a naked body was nothing new, but that didn’t stop him from gaping in awe at Aziraphale’s naked form.

Broad shoulders, barrel chest covered in blond curls that continued down the swell of his stomach and disappeared, tantalizingly, into his loincloth. Said loincloth was tented almost to hilarity and Crowley’s fingers itched to untie the meager strings keeping it up.

He opted, instead, for burying his face in Aziraphale’s chest and pressing as close as their human bodies allowed. His cocked throbbed insistently, but this was more important. Feeling Aziraphale, really feeling him, was the one most important thing he could do right now.

“Oh, darling.” Aziraphale whispered against the top of his head, pressing soft kisses to his hair and holding Crowley tightly to him. “Come, lets lay down, hm?”

Crowley nodded and allowed Aziraphale to lay them both down, much more careful and gently this time.

Laying facing one another they traded kisses and soft touches. Exploring each others curves and corners, and coaxing out breathy sighs.

After one kiss and before the next Crowley picked at the knot of the loincloth still keeping him from seeing _all_ of Aziraphale. “Wanna get this off of you.” He mumbled into Aziraphale’s mouth.

Aziraphale ‘hmmed’ back and ran his thumb across one of Crowley’s pert nipples in a way that made him gasp. “I’m surprised you haven’t already.”

“Didn’t, ah, want to without, mmph, asking.”

Crowley realized he said something a bit too telling the second it left his mouth because Aziraphale practically _glowed_ , and why the heaven didn’t he process these things before he said them!?

“Oh _Crowley_ -”

“Don’t!”

“-how _sweet_.”

Crowley bumped the tip of Aziraphale’s nose with the tip of his own. “’M not.”

“Yes you ar- Hey!” Aziraphale gasped as Crowley shot up. “What are you-”

His voice died when Crowley leaned over his hip and grasped one end of the knot with his teeth, one well place tug had it unraveling, finally revealing Aziraphale thick cock.

Crowley grinned, feeling triumphant. “Ha! See? Not swee-ack!” He yelped, pulled roughly onto his back, pinned to the bed by angelic strength, and kissed to within an inch of his life.

“You absolute menace!” Aziraphale growled between kisses.

Crowley snickered and ran his hands a cross Aziraphale's shoulders, loving the feel of the muscles moving under his hands as Aziraphale shifted to suck at his neck. “You, guh, liked it!”

“I like you!” Said Aziraphale. “Now I recall you mentioned something about, ah, ‘biting my thighs’.”

“Bite you where ever you want.” Crowley growled while he wrapped a leg around Aziraphale’s hip, trying to pull him down for delicious friction. The angel wasn’t budging an inch, however.

“Yes well, as delightful as that would be, darling, I thought, perhaps, you might allow me to taste you instead.”

“T-taste me? If I, ah, _recall,_ your tongue was halfway down my, fuck, throat a moment ago. Not that I’m complaining.” It was getting increasingly difficult to form complete sentences, especially with Aziraphale's hands holding his hips down, thumbs digging into the crease where his leg and torso met.

Aziraphale ‘hmmed’ and nibbled on his collar bone before continuing. “I meant I would like to fellate you. If you are amendable.”

Crowley wheezed as he realized what Aziraphale was getting at. “You want to sssuck my dick!?”

“Crude.” Aziraphale grumbled

That wasn’t a denial. Oh bloody heaven. “Fuck, yessss, angel. Definitely ‘amendable’.”

Aziraphale beamed up at him “Oh jolly good!”

“J-jolly goouuuuuuhhh...” Crowley threw his head back, eyes clenched shut, and moaned when Aziraphale clamped his mouth over a nipple, entirely unable to continue trying to make fun of him for using ‘jolly good’ while talking about sucking cock.

Crowley could feel Aziraphale laving at him with his tongue, alternating between sucking and twisting his tongue around the bud. “F-fuck, angel. The things you do with your-AH.”

“Just showing you what to expect, dear.” Aziraphale said against his skin leaving his nipple wet, sensitive, and cooling in the night air as he kissed and nipped farther down.

Crowley’s brain tried to come up with something about an ‘oral fixation’, but Aziraphale’s tongue was dipping into his decorative navel and the heat of his throat was so close to his cock.

“Oh darling, you taste so lovely.” Aziraphale’s breath teased over the head of his prick and Crowley struggled desperately to thrust towards it despite his hip being thoroughly pinned.

“Angel.” Crowley croaked.

“Hmm?”

“Killin’ me.” He peaked an eye open to see Aziraphale grinning up at him from between his legs and quickly shut them again because the sight of Aziraphale so close to his dick, beaded with precome, was almost overwhelming.

“Only a little one.”

Crowley didn’t get a chance to even try and ask what the fuck that was suppose to mean because Aziraphale closed soft fingers around the base of his cock and gave it one slow pump. Crowley cried out, grabbing the sheets beneath him in a death grip and desperately tried not to pop off right then and there.

“Oh you feel marvelous in my hand, Crowley. I bet you taste even better.”

Thank Someone Aziraphale had giving him a bloody warning, even if it was barely a split-second, Crowley was certain he would have discorporated without it. Aziraphale’s tongue doing little kitten licks across his head and shaft sending out shocks of pleasure and heat skittering up his spine.

“I was right. You _do_ taste lovely!”

It was supremely unfair that Aziraphale sounded to unaffected while he was demoted to a writhing mess of a demon.

Aziraphale settled his fist around the base of his cock holding it steady so he could wrap his lips around the tip, Crowley forced his eyes open so he could watch, panting and entranced, as his cock slowly disappearing into wet velvet heat.

Crowley swore as Aziraphale moaned around him, little vibrations only heightening the pleasure. Aziraphale pulled back, tongue gliding across the underside of his prick and swirling around the tip, before sliding down again far enough to where his lips met his fist.

Crowley couldn’t take not touching Aziraphale for another second longer. He reached down, burying his fingers in soft blond curls. Not pushing or pulling, just grounding himself. Reminding himself this was actually real, actually happening.

Which only seemed to spur Aziraphale on more, make him suck harder, faster. Crowley groaned and writhed, desperately wanting to thrust into the heat of Aziraphale’s mouth, but also glad Aziraphale was still holding him down and taking things at his own pace. Seeing to Crowley the way he wanted to.

Unfortunately this new punishing pace was sending Crowley hurdling towards the end fast. He gripped Aziraphale’s hair just a tad tighter. “Angel I, ah, I’m-”

Aziraphale ‘mmm’s’ around him before sliding off, his fist following his mouth, becoming slick with saliva and sliding right back down. His lips bright red and swollen.

It only took a few more pumps to send Crowley hurdling over the edge, crying out Aziraphale’s name, muscles clenching, and releasing all over his own stomach and Aziraphale's wet fist.

He’s still twitching and gasping even after Aziraphale released him and crawled back up his body, kissing and licking spend as he goes. “Hmm, reminds me of the oysters.” He whispered once he’d made it to Crowley’s mouth before diving in to kiss him.

Crowley’s arms and legs felt like they’d been transformed into the consistency of wet noodles but he still managed to wrap his arms around him, however clumsy.

“Was that alright?” Aziraphale whispered, burying his hands in Crowley's short hair and rutting against his slick stomach.

Crowley growled, quickly coming out of the orgasm fueled haze. “Fucking fantastic, angel. Now let me return the favor.” Crowley shoved his hand between their faces, rapidly licksedhis own palm with a long dexterous tongue, then shoved it down to Aziraphale’s painfully red and hard prick. Thick, hard, with velvety soft skin. Crowley gave it a generous strok while his free hand glided hungerly down Aziraphale's shoulder and across his chest, tweaking a nipple and scratching across his furred chest.

“Crowley!”Aziraphale gasped, bucking into Crowley’s slick palm and pulling him in for more kissing.

“That’s right, angel.” Crowley whispered into his open panting mouth. “Let me take care of you.”

Aziraphale moaned and thrust again. “Crowley I, ah, this won’t, oh, take long.”

“Good.” Crowley growled and twisted his fingers on the upstroke, focusing his attentions on the head and frenulum.

“Yes! Oh, Crowley yes. Just like that!”

Crowley preened under the praise even as it lit a fire under his skin. Aziraphale was pleased with him. He was making Aziraphale feel good.

He’d never felt better in his entire existence.

Aziraphale ducked his head into Crowley neck and whimpered. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

“Never, angel. I’ve got you.”

One final stroke and twist had Aziraphale crying out his pleasure and coming all over Crowley's fist, painting both their stomachs white this time.

Crowley held Aziraphale through it all, pressing kisses into his hair and temple as he trembled and moaned.

Aziraphale settled eventually. Sighing and pressing gentle kisses to Crowley neck. “We should probably clean up. I hear this can get quite… uncomfortable.”

Crowley snorted and with a snap of his fingers they were both dry, clean, and tucked under Aziraphale's sheets.

“Oh Crowley! How-”

“Don’t you start!” Crowley rolled onto his back and pulled Aziraphale flush to his side. “Can’t go five minutes without you getting all mushy!”

Aziraphale ‘hmmed’ happily and wiggled to get comfortable, eventually settling on laying his head on Crowley’s shoulder with one hand caressing his chest and Crowley’s arm around his waist. “Don’t be so prickly, dear. You love it.”

Crowley gave a ‘hmpf’ and a light squeeze to Aziraphale’s hip. “Love you.”

Satan and all the Princes of Hell he was going to have to have a stern talking-to with his mouth for saying these things without consulting him first.

Aziraphale slapped Crowley’s chest and shove himself up, wiggling so much he might as well have been vibrating.

“ _Don’t_.”

“ _Crowley_.”

“ _NO_.”

“You said you love me!”

“Uuuuugh!” Crowley groaned and turned his head away as Aziraphale’s angelic glow began seeping through his corporation like a miniature sun. The light tingled on his skin, just a smidge.

He could feel his face heating up in embarrassment and had to fight the urge to burrow somewhere and hide. Why the fuck was this so embarrassing!? It wasn’t as if Aziraphale didn’t already know. That was the whole reason this even happened!

Though Aziraphale excitedly covering the side of his face he could reach in kisses helped. A little.

“I know this makes you uncomfortable and that I already knew of course… but it _does_ feel nice to hear it.”

Crowley turned and pressed a kiss to Aziraphale’s mouth. It stung a bit, but it was still kissing Aziraphale so he found he didn’t mind so much. “Alright, enough of the light show, eh? Make the whole city think one of their pagan gods showed up at this rate.”

 _That_ worked. The glow immediately began to subside. “Well. We can’t have that.”

They settled down again, legs tangled and reluctant to be parted. Crowley could feel the fatigue of the days, and nights, activities wearing on him. Pulling him into a sleep he didn’t actually need, but enjoyed indulging in anyway.

He knew tomorrow there would need to be conversations, probably ones he didn’t want to have, and negotiation of this new thing between them. But right now he knew he was safe and knew he was loved.

And right now, that’s all that mattered.

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaaaand there ya have it folks! I actually had a hell of a lot of fun writing this. There is a possibility of turning it into a series of one-shots around the rest of the cold open scenes, but no promises!


End file.
